


Sex in a Hopeless Place

by withthepilot



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Graduate School, M/M, Teaching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-22
Updated: 2012-01-22
Packaged: 2017-10-29 23:27:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/325342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/withthepilot/pseuds/withthepilot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Between his apathetic students, demanding advisor, and insane workload, Hikaru worries for his sanity as a PhD candidate and adjunct professor at UC Berkeley. Thankfully, there's one person who makes it a little easier to get through each day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sex in a Hopeless Place

**Author's Note:**

  * For [downjune](https://archiveofourown.org/users/downjune/gifts).



> Written for downjune for the kirk_sulu holiday exchange on LJ. Apologies for the lateness! I tried to do a combination of two of her prompts here. Thanks to starsandgraces for the quick beta!

"So, does anyone have any thoughts on this paragraph? Anyone at all?"

Hikaru looks out at the classroom full of undergrads doodling in the margins of their notebooks and feels a spike of envy in his gut. He wishes he didn't have to care about the ins and outs of Western literature, either—or rather, that he wasn't compelled to care. Or maybe he just wishes he were adjuncting for a group of kids that were more interested in their studies than their cuticle beds. There are a few kids with laptops instead of paper notebooks, but none of them look up either. Probably tagging photos on Facebook or playing Angry Birds or some shit. Again, he's jealous.

He's about to throw his book on the floor and chew on the corner of his desk in frothing rage when the back door to the classroom opens. Hikaru freezes in place. He's not supposed to get evaluated for another week or so, but Pike does occasionally get it in his head that messing with the poor adjuncts is a good time.

Hikaru lets out a sigh of relief when he sees that it's just Jim, his fellow doctoral candidate and sometimes dashing, often obnoxious roommate. He ambles inside and takes a seat in the back, chewing gum and grinning at Hikaru like he just pulled off the prank of the century.

No one else seems to notice the intrusion or even bothers looking up. At least, not until Hikaru drops his book on the desk beside him with a loud bang.

"Okay, geniuses. If you can't participate in a proper class discussion, you get to write an essay about it instead. Five thousand words oughta do it."

Cue the round of gasps and offended groans. Jim is one of the loudest, smacking his hand on his desk in protest and dropping his golden head back as he moans his false displeasure. The young girl beside Jim looks at him like he just broke out of the insane asylum, which Hikaru would believe if he didn't leave him at home this morning, watching _Today_ and pouring milk into a box of Lucky Charms. With leaky results.

"Fine, three thousand. But it's mandatory and due by the end of the week." Hikaru folds his arms across his chest, trying to look as authoritative as possible. "Maybe next time, you'll come to class ready to talk about the reading material."

Jim makes a lewd gesture in his direction. Hikaru rubs a hand over his eyes and dismisses the class.

When they hit the hallway, Jim is still laughing.

"I need to sit in on your classes more often! I didn't know you were such a cranky hard-ass. It's _very_ appealing."

Hikaru scowls and adjusts the strap of his messenger bag, currently stuffed with the awful, terrible, no-good papers the class handed in for their last assignment. He's not quite done grading them. Every time he tries, he gets through about three before he starts thinking about repurposing them as toilet paper.

It's not an understatement to say that lately, with all the stress that comes with this program, this life path, it's been really hard to get through each day.

"My students are brain-dead. I have to whip them into shape before my next evaluation. As it is, Pike totally crapped all over the revision of my last chapter."

"Uh huh." Jim takes a moment to blow a bubble. "And punishing them with work they loathe is going to train them well."

"We can't all have super-duper A+ students and Pike wrapped around our pinky fingers," Hikaru snaps. "I swear to god, you always leave your dissertation work 'til the very last minute and he thinks you shit a rainbow onto the page every time."

"If you're implying that Pike and I are engaged in some kind of illicit activity, you're dead wrong. I just really do shit rainbows. Don't tell me you haven't seen one in the toilet at home."

"Uncalled for."

Hikaru walks faster, eager to get to the English Department office, where there are people who aren't Jim. He usually enjoys his company, but he's not in the mood right now for Jim's endless supply of good cheer and poop jokes. When Hikaru opens the door, Len looks up from his paperwork at the front desk, his eyebrows all screwy. Then he grunts and looks down again. Across the room, Nyota pauses in her photocopying and waves.

"Hey, Hikaru. Dare I ask how class was today?"

"Well, I'm not twitching in agony on the floor, so I guess they haven't killed me with their complete and utter apathy yet. 'Yet' being the key word."

"Did you guys know that Hikaru is a total hard-ass in the classroom?" Jim asks them. He hops onto Len's desk, creasing a number of papers that end up wedged beneath his butt. "Hey, Bones. Did you know that Hikaru is a hard-ass?"

"Right now, all I can see is _your_ big ass, ruining all my hard work," Len gripes. He yanks the papers out from underneath Jim. "Why on god's green Earth they pay you imbeciles to attend this program, I don't even know."

Nyota scoffs and flips to a new page in her book. Her voice drips with sarcasm. "Yeah, right. Because they pay us _so_ much, to teach these kids shit they couldn't care less about. Check me out, rolling in the dough, luxuriating in how fulfilled I am."

"Look at our lives; look at our choices," Hikaru says, sitting in an empty chair. "But hey, it could be worse. We could have gone to law school."

"Bite your tongue," Jim mutters.

Len sighs and puts down his pen, readying himself to ask the same question he asks at least once a month. "Then _why are you here_?" he says, every syllable slowly drawn out, as if he's talking to children. The rest of them look at each other and smirk.

"Because it's our _lives_ ," Hikaru says. "We know nothing but the cold, deathlike grip of academia, and the ways in which it simultaneously crushes our fragile bodies and numbs us to the woes of the outside world."

Jim nods. "Yeah, what he said. And no offense, Bones, but if I were thirty-two and doing admin work, I'd probably stab myself in the jugular with a pencil."

"Offense taken," Len replies with a nasty glare. "As usual. Remind me to lose your transcripts, infant."

"Play nice, boys," Nyota says. "We all have to stay friends until at least tonight, because if I don't get a cocktail in me, I'm going to flay the first freshman I see."

Hikaru and Jim exchange mutual cringes at the very thought. Len, on the other hand, shoots Nyota a sympathetic look. It's no secret that Len has it pretty bad for their fellow PhD candidate—it's probably ninety percent of the reason that Len ends up at the bar with them on Friday nights. Rumor has it that Nyota's got the hots for a guy in a physics department adjunct with an ill-advised bowl haircut, but Hikaru's pretty sure that Len could put a stop to all that if he toned down the gruffness and laid some Southern charm on her. He doesn't pry, though; he's not as close with Len as he is with his fellow PhD students. It's Jim that Len has the special, co-dependent, and inexplicable relationship with.

Which would probably explain why Jim sees no problem with miming sexual gestures when Nyota's back is turned. Somehow, though, he seems surprised when Len reaches out and pushes him off the desk and onto the floor.

"I'm suing the English Department!" he yells, rubbing his ass.

Len rolls his eyes. "I'll go dust off all those bags of money in the vault. By the way," he adds, handing Jim a folder when he stands. "Before I forget. From Pike."

"Oh, thanks."

Jim opens the folder and scans the papers inside. Hikaru watches as his entire face shifts downward, suddenly not so easygoing and carefree anymore.

"What's wrong?" he ventures, yawning into the back of his wrist. "You misplace a comma or something?"

"Oh, shit. Pike's gonna have your head for that one," Nyota says, laughing.

Jim closes the folder and gives them all a smile that's not quite genuine. "Ha, yeah. Basically. Along those lines. Listen, I gotta head to the library for a bit. See you guys at the bar tonight."

He books it out of there and Hikaru frowns to the others. "What was that about?"

"He fucked up royal," Len says, scribbling notes. "Pike told him to redo his entire last dissertation chapter. Said he expected better and whatnot." A few seconds pass and he lifts his head again. "What, you think I don't look at the stuff the faculty gives me? Gotta amuse myself somehow, don't I?"

Hikaru looks to the window and spots Jim stalking moodily across the main campus path to the library. If there were ever a metaphorical rain cloud hanging over someone's head, that someone would be Jim, right now.

So much for shitting rainbows.

The thing is, people expect a lot from Jim, and not always for the right reasons. Hikaru knows firsthand the way some people look at his friend and see the face of his brilliant father, who used to teach at UC Berkeley, and who wrote two ridiculously game-changing books before a sudden, early death. Who knows how many more he could have penned if things were different, how great his impact could have been? Hikaru thinks Jim's dad is part of—well, mainly the reason why Jim is such a perfectionist about everything. Sure, he leaves his work 'til the last minute, but that work is always impeccable. Or, well, it usually is. Hikaru's only ever seen him get less than an A on an assignment once, and the taunts Jim got from Henderson and his stupid clique about not measuring up to his dad made Hikaru want to flip tables and punch them all repeatedly in their stupid, ugly faces.

Usually, Jim is the one Hikaru wants to punch in the face, so that was kind of weird. Punch with love, that is. Sort of. It's complicated.

Hikaru slogs through another class in the afternoon and then talks Len into letting him take a disco nap in an empty office in the humanities building. When his phone's alarm goes off, just in time for their trip to the bar, he rouses himself and goes down to meet everyone in the main office. He finds only Len, Nyota, and Pavel, the other too-brilliant-for-his-own-good student in the program, who's much younger than the rest of them. Pavel avoids their collective wrath and resentment because he also happens to be a fun, awesome kid.

"Where's Jim?" Hikaru asks, pulling his coat on.

"Haven't heard from him," Len says. "Not since he went down to the library."

"Dude, that was hours ago."

Nyota shrugs. "Well, go get him and meet us there because I can't wait another _second_ before I get my hands on some booze."

"Woman after my own heart," Len says, and Nyota smiles, somewhere between shy and devious. Which is just like her.

"All right, fine." Hikaru points at Pavel. "Save some vodka for me, though."

Pavel laughs, his curls bouncing with it. "I make no promises."

"Are you even old enough to drink?" Hikaru hears Len ask, as he heads out of the office to fetch his roommate.

When he gets to the library, he finds Jim in his favorite spot: an individual desk in a dim corner of a tucked-away room. One of those old-fashioned brass lamps is lit just above his head, highlighting the gold flecks in his hair. Hikaru pauses in the doorway to watch him for a few moments, his eyes raking over Jim's hunched shoulders and tightly gripped pen, his teeth chewing anxiously at his plump bottom lip as he pushes his fingers into his hair.

It should trouble Hikaru, seeing Jim so wound up, so different from his normal demeanor. But it strikes him as a meaningful sight—a reminder that Jim is human, and in this unguarded moment, oddly beautiful.

"Hey," he whispers when he gets close. Jim looks up in open surprise and Hikaru smiles softly. "You look like you could use a break."

"Probably," Jim concedes. "But I'm kinda busy here. Might be having a breakthrough. Can't really tell just yet."

Hikaru nods. He's willing to bet that whatever Jim handed in was good enough for an average student, but that Pike could see something bigger and better brewing under the surface—something more Jim-like. Pike's always had this uncanny way of getting them to dig deeper, to pull out the stuff that's most worthwhile, even if it means ripping apart their own bowels and then knotting them back together, for the sake of literature. In this case, it seems to be working. There are pages and pages of scribbled text scattered all over the desk, and it looks as though Jim has been writing feverishly for hours. Doing real, thoughtful, insightful work, instead of his usual hat trick of pulling something out of his ass at four in the morning, after infomercials take over the TV listings.

"Still struggling with that comma, huh?" he asks, going for levity. Jim rewards him with a brilliant smile.

"Man, it's a bitch of a punctuation mark, let me tell you."

Hikaru smiles back and scratches the back of his head. He doesn't know why he suddenly feels a little nervous around Jim. He's seen the man eat food off the kitchen floor. And the bathroom floor, too, for that matter. He's found him asleep in the tub, wearing nothing but a top hat and long johns. Jim is just…Jim. Except, maybe, when he's struggling to make something work, and reaching toward his full potential. Then, he's something else.

"Well," he says, after he's stared dumbly for a while. "We'll miss you. And try not to stay too late. 'Cause, um, you know. You'll be tired."

"Right. 'Cause of all the being awake." Jim reaches out and tugs on the end of Hikaru's striped scarf, smirking. "Have fun. But not too much fun."

He already knows it won't be as much fun without Jim. He nods and waves goodbye.

On the bright side, alcohol always makes everything at least a _little_ fun, and since they're all friends with Scotty, the owner of the bar, the alcohol is usually copious after a certain point in the evening. Hikaru takes it easy at first, sipping slowly at light beers, but then the atmosphere shifts and suddenly, everyone remembers it's Friday night, they have tomorrow off, and they want—no, _need_ —to get hammered.

Also, Scotty has a weird fascination with Pavel and the way he can drink so much despite being so small. It's for that reason that they're practically deluged with discounted vodka shots, much to Pavel's delight. Len sticks to his beloved bourbon and Nyota only attempts to drink two, which leaves most of the remnants for Pavel and Hikaru.

"Please, Hikaru, take," Pavel encourages him, pushing the little glass shots across their table. "Even I cannot drink this much."

"I'm at a disadvantage," he sighs. "Usually I have Jim to help me out with this."

"His loss." Pavel raises a shot and Hikaru mirrors the action. "To our missing comrade."

"Sure, right." He downs the first shot quickly, then the next.

It's some time after midnight when empty glasses surround them and Pavel's run off to do more shots with Scotty at the bar. The only ones left at the table are Hikaru, Len, and Nyota. Hikaru is so drunk, he almost doesn't feel it when Len nudges Hikaru's knee under the table.

"Hey, look who decided to join us after all," Len says.

Hikaru looks up and spies Jim wandering into the bar, looking calm and collected in his leather jacket and tight jeans, as if he didn't just spend the last zillion hours agonizing over his dissertation chapter, this close to rending all his garments in despair.

"Jim!" he exclaims. "You didn't turn into a pumpkin!"

"Whoa, there. Dial down the volume a bit there, Hikaru." Jim grins and joins them in their booth, nudging Len's side. "Scoot over, Bones. Jeez."

Jim's point is well taken. Hikaru is at least three shades of smashed, thanks to Pavel, Scotty, and all the evil outside influences of the world. But Jim's here now, which is awesome, and he finds he doesn't give much of a shit about anything else. "You should sit next to _me_ ," he grouses, which earns him a round of odd looks from everyone else. Hikaru ignores them and waves to Scotty at the bar. "Another round on me, Scotty!"

"You sure that's a good idea?" Len asks, eyebrow lifted.

"It's a great idea because my roommate has been working hard _all day_ and needs a drink or five."

"Here, Jim, I'll switch with you," Nyota says. She abandons her spot next to Hikaru so that Jim can sit there instead, and plunks down in the booth next to Len—Len, who looks inordinately pleased with this turn of events. Nyota looks a little smug herself. "How was the library, Jim?"

"Oh, you know, a total ball. Christine told me that no one tried to hang themselves during her shift, so that was a win."

Hikaru laughs a little too loudly at that. He shuts up when Jim gently squeezes his knee under the table. In this state, he doesn't understand what such a gesture means and he's really glad when the drinks come and distract him.

After a while, it looks like Len is actually getting somewhere with Nyota—they've relocated to a table by the window and they're talking quietly. Len actually looks happy and he keeps making Nyota laugh, which isn't always an easy task. Hikaru and Jim sit alone at the original table, and Jim rambles gleefully about the next assignment he dreamt up for his comp lit class and how much they're going to despise him for it and demand his head on a platter.

"Seriously, I'm going to get so many hate comments on Rate My Professor. It's gonna be amazing."

"You're really smart," Hikaru blurts out. He's leaning a little dangerously into Jim and since he hasn't been pushed away, he leans into him even more. "Like, you're like, the smartest person in the program, by a mile."

Jim gives him a funny look. "Yeah, right. You, Nyota, and Pavel could all kick my ass any day of the week."

"No, really. You don't have to follow in anyone's footsteps to be the best. And—and it really bums me out when you let other assholes get to you. 'Cause you're so _awesome_. And, like, Pike knows how awesome you are. And I'm sure whatever you wrote today is going to blow his fucking mind. No mind left. His mind will be, like, obliterated."

"Hikaru, I think maybe you've had—"

"'Cause you worked so _hard_ on it and you should be fucking proud of yourself, and… Hey, no, stop that. I know what I'm saying here, man."

There's a faint blush blooming across Jim's cheeks, which is way cuter than it should be, and the light is illuminating the soft tufts of his hair again. Hikaru can't help but track the movement of Jim's mouth as he swigs from his pint of beer. Because it really is a very pretty, luscious mouth. Not that he hasn't noticed before, but right now it's like…dude. Whoa.

"Come on, man," Jim says, deflecting as usual. "You're not making sense. Like, at all. You know that, right?" He smiles brightly at Hikaru, that perfect goddamn smile, and that's totally the last straw.

"Okay, so, wait. What I'm _trying_ to say is," he begins, and then takes a sip of his own beer. Liquid courage, he thinks, in the jumbled mess of his conscious mind. He forgets to swallow before his next words, which should be, _You're really hot when I'm drunk_ , but end up as simply, "You're really hot," with bonus spillage of beer down his chin and all the way down to his shirt. Which is far more accurate, anyway. Jim laughs in sparkling surprise and reaches for a napkin, but Hikaru doesn't care about the stain, so he grabs Jim by his jacket and pulls him in for a kiss instead.

It's a really nice kiss. And the best part is that Jim kisses back, moving his plush lips against Hikaru's in an achingly soft, warm way, and opening up to Hikaru's tongue when he demands entrance. And yes, this is the mouth that's eaten food from god knows how many bizarre surfaces, but right now, it's all that Hikaru wants.

When they pull apart, there's some scattered applause from the others. " _Finally_ ," Len drawls, between sips of bourbon. Hikaru blinks and scrunches up his nose in disbelief.

"You kissed me back," he observes. "Did you _want_ to kiss me or something?"

"Probably, a little bit," Jim says. "Or a lot. But if sucking milk from the open corner of a cardboard cereal box didn't woo you, then I wasn't sure what would."

Hikaru is way too drunk to respond to that.

Nyota's the only one sober enough to drive, so she's nice enough to take everyone home. Hikaru can barely stay awake through the trip, let alone participate in the conversation, but he has Jim's shoulder to nuzzle against, so that's nice. He comes to again temporarily when they get out of the car and Jim has to help him up the stairs to the apartment.

"Hey, Jim," he murmurs, taking each step at a time, and carefully. "Think Len's gonna get lucky?"

"I think there's a good chance, actually. Which is good, 'cause Bones needs to get laid something fierce."

Hikaru smiles sleepily up at him. "Am I gonna get lucky?"

"If you play your cards right," Jim says, grinning.

If _playing his cards right_ means passing out upon contact with the first flat surface, then Hikaru totally wins that hand. It's definitely not what he had in mind, but it's not a battle he has any chance of winning.

When he cracks his eyelids open again, it's daylight outside and he feels someone toying with the short hairs along his nape. It's Jim, lying beside him in a T-shirt and boxers, reading a thick paperback. He's wearing his glasses, which kind of make him look like a sexy grandpa, especially with the bedhead. Hikaru approves. And he wishes that he could remember what happened the night before.

"Hi," he says, blinking up at Jim. He must look confused because Jim immediately pulls his hand away, looking like he's just been caught in the act of…something.

"Hi. Uh. Sorry. It just looked fun. Your hair, I mean. To play with."

"Are you saying words?" Hikaru glances around and realizes this isn't his bedroom. "Why am I in your bed?" he asks, just as he realizes his hand is splayed over Jim's stomach. Which is probably not a place it should be. He draws it back, just as Jim answers him.

"Better you sleep here with me than end up choking on your own—oh, hey, you don't have to…um." He bites his lip. "You can leave it there. I don't mind."

Okay, now Hikaru is confused. "Did we have sex or something?"

"You don't remember anything," Jim says, his face falling. He barely gives Hikaru a second to process that statement before he sits up and scoots toward the edge of the bed, like a spooked deer. "Hey, I'm hungry. Are you? You must be starved. I'll make us something."

"Wait, hold up—owww." The stabbing pain in his forehead tells Hikaru that it's not a stellar idea to roll onto his side and grab Jim. Too late, though. "There's, like, a ninety-five percent chance I'll puke if I try to eat right now anyway, so why don't you stay and tell me what…" And then, looking at his fist crumpled up in the cotton of Jim's shirt, he has a sudden flashback and remembers. "Oh, man. I totally _kissed_ you."

"Little bit," Jim says, his eyes darting away. "But it's cool. I know you were drunk, so we can just, you know, forget about it."

Hikaru opens his mouth to protest but apparently he's not done remembering all of the awful awfulness that comprises his drunken shenanigans. "…And this was after I dribbled beer all over myself. And you still let me kiss you."

"Okay, that? Was kind of majestic."

He groans and buries his face near Jim's armpit, which actually smells quite nice, considering he hasn't showered yet. "God, I wish I could remember what I said to you. All I remember is that whatever it was, I couldn't _shut up_."

Jim rubs circles over Hikaru's back, which feels criminally good. "It was all nice stuff, trust me. I liked hearing it. Sometimes I worry you just think of me as a total jack-off, so everything you said…well. It was nice." They glance at each other and Jim smiles. "Anyway, I've been thinking about this for ages, so obviously, I'm into it. That is, if you still are."

Hikaru swallows. He doesn't really have to give it much thought. "Yeah, I mean…I like you. A lot. So we should. Try it, that is. I'd like to."

"Yeah, I mean, it makes sense. We've already embarrassed ourselves in front of each other so often at this point; we probably have a more intimate relationship by now than if we were just having sex all along. So clearly, adding sex to the equation is the natural progression of things."

"That makes so much sense and also none at all," Hikaru muses. He trails his fingers lightly down Jim's chest, marveling at how natural it feels to be so close. "It would be nice to have something to look forward to every day, after hours of wallowing in my pit of self-made despair."

"Right? We found sex in a hopeless place."

"Take that, everyone."

They look at each other and Hikaru is struck by the open, meaningful expression on Jim's face. He thinks back to yesterday at the library and Jim's little tug on his scarf, and every other time they've managed to say so much with few words. Raging headache and all, Hikaru scoots close and tilts his chin up, meeting Jim for a lingering kiss. Whatever this new thing is between them, it's got to be right if it means he gets to have kisses like this. They lose themselves in each other, until their legs get tangled and their shirts are pushed halfway up their torsos.

"Mmm, hey," Jim whispers against his lips. "I must really like you because your breath is fucking rank."

"Speak for yourself. When was the last time you brushed your teeth?"

"I dunno, man. I can't be expected to remember anything besides the entirety of the Western canon. My brain is full."

Hikaru snorts and tucks his face into the crook of Jim's neck. He shuts his eyes and feels better instantly. "Fair point. Can I sleep on you some more before I have to resemble a human?"

"It's Saturday," Jim says, picking up his book again. "Who says you have to be human? Get some rest; we have more drinking to do later. And boning."

"Urgh. Also, yay. In that order. What're you reading, by the way?"

"Just something Pike recommended for my next chapter." He shrugs beneath Hikaru's weight. "I was thinking I'd get a head start, for once."

Hikaru's smirk is interrupted by a yawn. "All kinds of breakthroughs," he murmurs. He'd be alarmed by all this change—a budding whatever this is, and Jim's sudden desire to strive for more—but he's sure he'll wake up later to find him sitting in front of the TV, trying to play Xbox with one hand and eat an ice cream sandwich with the other. Fortunately, that's the kind of thing that never needs to change. Hikaru pats Jim's hip fondly and, for the first time in ages, looks forward to the rest of his day.


End file.
